Black Family Reunion
by Potterhead101
Summary: With the nearly unnoticed death of their oldest relative, Cyngus Black I, the Black family decides to hold a reunion to find more of a sense of family unity, but little do they know that the reunion might just change them forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **This story was not authorized, prepared, approved, licensed, or endorsed by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros., or any other individual or entity associated with the HARRY POTTER books or movies.

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**~~ Chapter I: The Blacks ~~**

The kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld place was spotlessly clean; the copper dinner wares that aligned one wall sparkling in the light from the large, swept fireplace; the long table scrubbed clean; the windows rubbed so tidy that the rays of artificial magical sunlight streaming through them nearly blinding. Although the heavily adorned tabletop was set with over twenty plates, only four set at the table; and those were the residents of the flat themselves, the Black family; absentminded and timid Orion and his wife, stern and cruel Walburga took up the two far ends of the table, while their sons, both equally handsome, Sirius and Regulus, sat between them, eating silently.

Rushing in a patriarchal fashion around the rectangular dining space was a short and ugly house-elf, who looked thoroughly over pleased and giving the whole room a broad, mostly toothless smile.

"Does Master find his porridge acceptable?" he asked in a croak like a bullfrog to Orion, who was gazing, unfocused, off into nothingness, although the house-elf's voice seemed to have jerked him back to awareness.

"Er," he said, in his surprisingly high-pitched yet undoubtedly male voice, "Yes, Kreacher. Excellent."

He looked around the room with the air of one who had never seen in properly, surveying every inch of detail to make sure he did not let his mind wander once more, as he was often prone to doing. Seeing his wife with her face hidden behind the _Daily Prophet_, dated with the current month of October the thirty-first, 1972, he asked her, "Anything in the news, dear?"

A small line of concentration appeared between Walburga Black's large, patchy eyes as she frowned at the page; it was common knowledge she could not read well, but that would not stop her from trying. Giving up the rather long word she had been scowling at (_"_Mulctuary") , and merely glanced at the picture of the Minister for Magic that accompanied the article before guessing its contents and saying, "Nobby Leech messing things up, as usual." She then added in undertone, "Muggle-loving scum."

Everyone around the table nodded in agreement, except for the two boys, who had been taught that they were not permitted to voice their opinions on matters such as these; or at least Sirius, who was fond of the non-magical community himself, was not allowed to; Regulus was simply quiet.

Breakfast passed without anything else of interest; Orion went into another daze, Regulus and Sirius finished their meals and lingered only because they could not leave until told to, and Walburga went into a fury when she found the word "Muggle" in her newspaper, a word which she recognized, having written it many times in frequent letters to the Ministry, asking why they could not just kill all of them.

"Bloody animals!" she shrieked, standing up and knocking her plate off the table, where it very nearly shattered on the stone floor, only to be caught at the last second by Kreacher, who left the room muttering "Hear, hear!"

Mrs. Black proceeded to yell so furiously that even her husband could not hide his attention, and the very room around her seemed to be trying to slink away from her; the fireplace sputtered and went out, the pantry door shrunk itself away, and a mirror on the far end of the chamber muttered something about manners. She continued this fit until Kreacher reentered the room carrying a parchment envelope, and tugged on her dress.

"WHAT?" she asked, a bit more aggressively than she typically did when talking with the house-elf, whose ears drooped.

"Kreacher was just bringing Mistress a letter that has just arrived by owl," he croaked, slinking back from her and out in to the hallway after standing on his tiptoes to place the letter on the table.

Walburga regained her typical poise, letting out a great burst of air as if to rid her body of anger, and brushing her emerald robes back to their typical wrinkleless state before sitting down in her high-backed chair and addressing the letter before her; with long, waxy fingers she tore open the envelope, took out the piece of parchment within, unfolded it, read it, and dropped it to the floor in shock, clasping a hand over her mouth to suppress a small gasp.

Curious as to what his mother was doing, Sirius darted quickly to the letter on the stone floor, and snatched up before Walburga could grab it once more. He read it much quicker than his mother had, and a small frown appeared over his eyes.

"What is it, boy?" asked Orion, gazing at his eldest son with his glassy eyes.

"Grandad's dead," he said, returning to his chair.

"Which one?" asked Regulus dully.

Sirius glanced once more at the creased parchment before saying, "Look's like Cygnus. But that's no surprise is it? I mean, he was what, two-hundred years old?"

"One-hundred and forty-three, mind you!" snapped Walburga before saying, more calmly, "When did he die?"

"Yesterday by the looks of it." said the boy in a relaxed way, leaning back in his chair.

"Yesterday?" asked Mrs. Black, "But that means -- the tapestry -- how could we --?"

Although her stuttering was quite confusing, the entirety of the room knew what she was talking about: a tapestry in the drawing room that was graced with the Black family tree. It magically updated itself with each change in the family; births, deaths, marriages. If Cygnus truly was dead, it would have appeared on there.

Everyone stood up from the table and left their dinner scraps behind for Kreacher to clean, which he did without complaint, and they all rushed down the narrow and dimly-lit hallway to the backroom, where the moth-eaten family tapestry hung. Walburga gave a small gasp much like the one she had given in the kitchen before pointing close to the top of the tapestry: the name _Cygnus Black I _was scrawled there in ridiculously curly golden letters, curving around the sneering woven image of the family's oldest member, who had been there as far as any one could remember. Directly under the name was the epithet _b. 1820_, only now it was followed by another year: _d. 1972_.

"Merlin's beard," she muttered sadly, looking at the words with dull eyes and a disbelieving expression, "He died yesterday. This tapestry has showed his death date for over a day, and we never noticed."

Sirius gave a sigh; he thought he could tell where his mother was going with this.

"Where is the sense of Black family pride?" she asked, a bit more loudly and clearly, "We have not been close to our kin for too long. This has got to change. Anyone of these people," she gestured at the wall, "could die tomorrow and we would never notice. I think that its time for a get-together."

Although Sirius thought a Black family reunion was possibly the worst thing that he would have to endure for the rest of his life, Regulus looked quite enthusiastic; so much so that he lost his typical quiet demeanor and exchanged it for a giddy voice overflowing with excitement.

"Will Bella be there?" he asked brightly, looking from his mother to his father, the latter of whom did not seem to notice him, and back again.

Walburga nodded, and Regulus gave a most unrespectable squeak of happiness, which his brother could not return. When Regulus had said "Bella," he had been referring to a relative named Bellatrix, whom Sirius thought his brother was quite smitten with, although he was unsure whether the target of his admirer shared these feelings or even knew about them. For a moment he pictured the two of them, full grown, getting married, and the mere thought made his stomach churn. They were, after all, both undesirable people, handsome enough, but with poisonous personalities, not to mention that they were first cousins; although he doubted that this reason would stop his parents from allowing them to wed, Mr. and Mrs. Black were themselves second cousins, and as long as he was marrying a pureblood they didn't much care for his choice of spouse.

Meanwhile, Walburga took out her wand, a very long strip of oak wood, and did a sort of nonverbal twirl with it that resulted in several long rolls of parchment appearing in front of her, which she wrote different things on; who would be invited, the menu for Kreacher to cook, and the invitations themselves.

Sirius watched his mother doggedly, until she looked up halfway through the guest list and said, "Are you still here, boy? Go tidy up! Make yourself look smart before your relatives get here! Merlin, you'll bring shame on us all," she mumbled, looking back down to her paper, as Sirius halfheartedly trudged to his bedroom on the second floor, swearing under his breath.

'_I hardly make it through the day being around three Blacks'_, he thought viciously, '_with the whole ruddy house full of them I might just go insane.'_

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **This story was not authorized, prepered, approved, licensed, or endorsed by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros., or any other individual or entity associated with the HARRY POTTER books or films.

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**~~ Chapter II: The Unbreakable Vow ~~**

Sirius had just finished swapping his fashionably torn and tatty Muggle biker clothing and exchanged it for his horrid dress robes, a long pink feminine-looking cloth, with lacy cuffs that gave the appearance that it was beginning to be covered with mold, when the loud, clanging doorbell rang. Pressing his ear against the thick oaken door of his bedroom he could just make out the sounds of his mother putting on a falsely cheery voice as she welcomed what sounded like several early arrivals into the home.

"Ah, Cygnus, excellent, so glad you could make it! And you, Druella! I see you've brought the girls; Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa!"

Sirius' heart leapt. So his Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella had already showed up, had they? He wasn't particularly fond of Druella, and could tell that the feeling was entirely mutual, but Cygnus had always been decent to him. Two of their daughters, Bella and Cissa, had both inherited their unpleasant mother's demeanor, but he was quite fond of Andromeda, who was much more like her father in tolerance. His thoughts flickered to the nicked bottle of Firewhiskey and Muggle cigarettes hidden inside his wardrobe at this very moment, and he knew immediately that Andromeda would quite like to try them out with him.

With his spirit's a bit higher, he ran out the door of his bedroom and down the steps to the hallway, where he found his mother still giving unnecessarily prolonged and extravagant greetings to their guests. None of them seemed to have noticed him, and he felt quite disheartened when he realized what the adults were talking about.

"Yes," Druella said to Walburga. She was quite a pretty woman, although her face had a soft quality to it that hinted at her older age, and her forehead was lined with many wrinkles, souvenirs of decades of frowning. "I've just found three very good suitors for the girls. Rodolphus Lestrange, Evan Rosier, and Lucius Malfoy are all around their age, you know. Rosier's boy seems to be an imbecile, but I was so glad to find someone willing to marry their son off to Andromeda that I couldn't refuse. Good blood is hard to come by these days. So what do you have planned for Regulus and … the other one?"

Sirius tried to back away and go discreetly back up the stairs, but curiosity left him rooted to the spot. He knew, of course, that his parents had control over whom he would marry, but he had never heard them speak of it before and wondered who they would try to match him up with.

"I really don't know," sighed Walburga in an upset manner, "The Weasleys say that they have a cousin who would do Regulus good, but I don't think we want another … incident."

He knew what his mother was talking about; the Weasleys were, from what he had heard, all blood-traitors, and he had had an older cousin, Cedrella, who was disowned for marrying one of them.

"And what about Serious, or whatever that other ones name is?" asked Druella, who seemed to hate the Weasleys quite as much as her sister-in-law.

"No one will take him," said Walburga, sounding disappointed, as though afraid Sirius' lack of a spouse would be taken as proof that she was a poor mother, which, knowing Aunt Druella, Sirius didn't doubt.

"I heard the Parkinsons had a daughter --" began Druella, but at that same time Sirius could contain himself no longer, and he found himself shouting at her, "Will you can it about who I'm going to marry? You might not have noticed, but I'm thirteen, you old hag!"

Everyone in the group turned their head toward him immediately, looking livid, but none more so then his mother, who's pale skin seemed to have drained of any blood it had left as she pulled her long, dark dress a bit higher to step over to him and avoid stepping on the hem of her outfit at the same time.

"Nonsense," she said in a cold hiss, "My father was thirteen when I was born."

"Yeah," said Sirius, more coldly than even his mother had been, "and we all know how great Granddad Pollux's life was." He raised a hand. "Dropped out of Hogwarts in third year, abandoned by Grandma Irma, squandered family fortune." He ticked off each tragedy on his finger, leaving his mother looking terribly angry.

"You ungrateful little…" she whispered, raising a bony hand over her and bringing it down in a hard slap against her son's cheek. For a frail and elderly looking woman, forty-seven years had not softened the force that Walburga Black could put into a smack, and Sirius fell backward onto the ground, clutching the side of his face and scrambling to get back up.

"Now, now, dear," said Druella's voice from behind her stony-faced husband, whom she seemed to have hidden behind, "He's just a misunderstanding lad." She stepped from behind Cygnus, and walked toward Sirius, who had gained his composure once more, and she placed one bird-like, male sized hand against his cheek, turning over his head and examining the red mark in the shape of her sister-in-law's hand before making a tsking noise with her tongue. "Perhaps we should just take him away from the festivities for a while." She turned to face her daughters, "Girls, run along, while Cousin Sirius thinks about what he has done."

The girls walked past Sirius and up the stairs nearby, Bellatrix shoving him to the side as she went with a malevolent smirk. Cygnus and his wife, meanwhile, filed out of the room, ushered away to the kitchen by Walburga, who, the moment they were gone, turned on her child and said darkly, "Go to your room."

He grudgingly went without a word, and dimly heard the bell ring once more and another arrival, his mother's other brother, Alphard, walk in, talking jovially. Sirius wished he could have turned around and said hello to his favorite uncle, but at that exact moment he walked past the slightly ajar door to his younger brother's room and heard he and Bellatrix talking in hushed voices.

Peaking through the slight crack, from which the candles inside Regulus' room were casting a flickering light, Sirius saw his cousin and younger brother looking at the wall, admiring the area where the latter had pasted several newspaper clippings following the rise to power of the Dark Wizard Voldemort.

"He's brilliant, isn't he?" asked Bella, whose only visible spot from where Sirius was standing was her bushy black hair. Next to her, he saw Regulus nod his agreement.

They chatted on for a bit longer, unaware that they were being watched, when Bellatrix asked if Regulus could keep a secret, which he agreed to and eagerly asked her to tell him what she was going to say.

"No," she said, "You have to keep this very secret. The Unbreakable Vow."

Sirius leaned in closer, daring to push the door open a bit more. Downstairs he could hear his father's fake laughter as Alphard told one of his lame jokes. From what he could tell, Regulus was hesitant, but agreed to undergo the Vow.

"Cissy, come here!" hissed Bellatrix softly, and Sirius saw Cousin Narcissa walk in to view, an exact replica of her sister, but with blond hair and blue eyes as opposed to black and brown. "Make the Vow."

Narcissa looked around the room in all directions, making sure no one could see her, and Sirius jumped out of the way just in time; he was very nearly caught. Silently, the girl withdrew her wand, as Bellatrix and Regulus joined hands; he was horribly reminded of the thought of them getting married he had had earlier.

"Do you, Regulus Arcturus Black, swear that you will not tell a soul what I will show you?" asked Bellatrix.

"I do." said Regulus timidly. Downstairs more people came in and Sirius nearly missed what Bellatrix said next.

"And do you promise that you will never speak of it, as long as you shall live?"

"I do."

"And do you give your word, that accept what I am to give you a glimpse of without question?"

"I do."

Narcissa withdrew her wand. The ritual was complete; Regulus could never tell anyone what he was about to see, whatever it was, without suffering the greatest consequence of all; a painful magical death.

Immediately after the Vow was enacted, Bellatrix drew back the long black sleeve of her robes that covered her left arm, and showed Regulus something on her wrist that made him gasp.

"The Dark Mark!" he said hoarsely, to which both sisters hissed at him to be quiet. "But -- how?"

"I sought out the Dark Lord," she said proudly, "When I went with Mother to talk to the Malfoys when they were marrying off Cissa to Lucius, he was in the back room, talking with Mr. Malfoy. Malfoy was about to erase my memory of it, but the Dark Lord saw it as a chance to get a faithful servant, and I swore my loyalty to him."

Regulus looked awed.

"I am faithful to him," she continued, "his most loyal servant. I shall work for him until the end of my days, for his greatness --"

Sirius decided that he did not want to hear Bellatrix's rant about pro-pureblood propaganda, but instead calmly swung open the door to the bedroom and leaned against the door frame, smirking, "You seem keen to talk about old Snakeface." he said coolly, causing the three in the room to crick their necks looking for the source of the talking.

"How much did you hear?" said Bellatrix, returning from her hushed whisper to her usual booming shrieks.

"Enough," replied Sirius calmly, leaning up against the wall. "You're very fond of 'The Dark Lord,' aren't you? Got a crush?"

He chuckled as his cousin drew herself to her full height, her pale cheeks flushing, "I," she stammered, "You -- I'll tell --" But she seemed unable to find a way to rat on Sirius for eavesdropping without giving away what she had been talking about, and so he merely walked to his bedroom, chuckling humorously, and going to his bedroom, intending to collapse on his bed.

The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **This story was not authorized, prepared, approved, liscenced, or endorsed by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Bros., or any other individual or entity associated with the HARRY POTTER books or movies.

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**~~ Chapter III: Meet the Rest ~~**

"Hey, Sirius!" said Andromeda Black, sitting casually on Sirius's bed as though she owned it. She looked so much like her elder sister Bellatrix that they could have been twins, except for Andromeda was not quite as pale, nor did she look so sulky. Sirius's eyes trailed over the area around her; he saw that she had already started on the Firewhiskey: a half-empty bottle lay on the floor beside the four-poster.

"You went through my things," he said, more matter-of-factly than accusingly.

"Yep," said Andromeda, not in the least embarrassed by having been caught with someone else's things.

Sirius smiled. One of the things he liked best about Andromeda was the fact she managed to combine bubbly enthusiasm with blunt honesty. Downstairs he could hear more people, it sounded like six or seven, entering the hallway and chattering loudly.

"Why aren't you down there celebrating?" asked Andromeda.

"Skulking sounds more like what they're doing." he said, "Besides, you heard me get mad and yell at my mum. I'm not allowed down there, remember?"

"Sirius Black!" she said in mock surprise, "since when did what someone told you to do mean anything? What do you think they're going to do if they catch you done there? The Cruciatus Curse?" Andromeda laughed, but Sirius looked stony as he said, "I wouldn't doubt it."

He walked over to the bed, with sheets of red and gold, emblazoned with a Gryffindor lion, and sat down beside his cousin.

"Oh, come on," she said, rolling her eyes, "It sounds like Auntie Cassiopeia's showed up. She's always a laugh!" In actuality, and Sirius knew it, Andromeda meant that it was always a laugh to mess with their humorless and senile great-aunt, who would throw a fit about any prank pulled on her, while being unable to find and punish the prankster.

"Nah," said Sirius finally, taking his wand from a pocket, magically shutting the door of his bedroom, and accidentally drawing attention to his horrid pink and green dress robes.

"What -- are -- those?" asked Andromeda, barely concealing her own fit of giggles.

With an angry look on his face, Sirius tore the robes off of himself and threw them into a bin nearby, which choked and yelled something about not wanting to have his dirty clothes gagging it all day.

Not caring that his cousin was in the room, Sirius changed into his casual robes, before going into a rant about how, having a rich family, one would think one's clothes wouldn't be pieces of dragon dung. Andromeda listened patiently as he raved, and after he had vented him emotions they both sank into a silence, finishing off the Firewhiskey and even trying out a few of the Muggle cigarettes, which they didn't care for and tossed into the bin, still lit, causing it to splutter and cough smoke.

The silence eventually gave way to the occasional conversation as the chatter below them grew louder and the smells of Kreacher cooking in the kitchen became unbearable, causing Sirius to finally resign to going downstairs despite the expenses and leading Andromeda out of his room, stepping over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards as they went.

When they had left the room, the pair walked down the hall, passing Regulus's room, which he noticed had been abandon while he had been inside his own, and walked down the stairs onto the ground floor.

He nearly gasped. It was like walking into Diagon Alley or Hogwarts; anywhere where dozens of witches and wizards would be congregating, dressed in their most eccentric clothing. In the short time he had been upstairs, he had not realized how many family members had shown up, but now that he was with them he though there must have been at least fifty.

Looking into the narrow, crowded hallway before them was like looking into a sea of ridiculous headdresses and dress robes that made Sirius' frilly dress look tame. While his mother, Walburga, looked strange enough at the farthest end of the hall in her dark dress and wide-brimmed hat containing several wilting flowers, nearby Aunt Cassiopeia was walking around in what looked like a multi-colored marquee draped over her for a cloak, and wearing a hat that towered over her considerably short frame, nearly scraping the ceiling above. She was also, Andromeda pointed out to him, wearing only shoe, and was asking everyone around her where it could be, while only a few feet a way Narcissa and Bellatrix had it, cackling at the success of their practical joke.

"There you are, Sirius, m'boy!" slurred a booming voice from the other side of the hall; they both turned to see Uncle Alphard, their mother's eccentric younger sibling coming toward them, waddling and laughing, clearly more than a little drunk. He was wearing Muggle attire underneath his cloak, which was attracting sneers from people around him, and had a large red bowtie on, just visible under his double chins and walrus moustache.

Sirius walked briskly toward his uncle so that they met each other in the middle of the hall, where Sirius held out a hand to shake, but Alphard pulled him into a bone-breaking hug instead.

"Blimey, Sirius," he said loudly, "I haven't see-seen you for -- since," he stammered, his voice trailing away, before he fell asleep where he was standing, his plump face falling to his shoulder. Seconds later he fell backward, hitting the thick-carpeted floor with a shake that woke the portraits on the walls, which began to scream. Wearing disgusted faces, two men, whom Andromeda and Sirius recognized as Ignatius Prewett, the husband of his Aunt Lucretia, and his grandfather Arcturus, picked him up looking strained and dragged him off to a pantry in the kitchen, where they left him to sober up. Sirius actually saw Cassiopeia kick him with her bare foot as he was pulled past her.

It was mere seconds before the room filled up with loud chatter again and Andromeda left Sirius' side to check on how dinner was coming along. Moments the later, the hall was covered in acrid-smelling green smoke, which, through watering eyes, everyone could see was coming from a pipe that Cousin Charis, a frail witch who was close to death, had lit and stuck in her toothless mouth. Sirius distinctly saw the silhouette of Charlus Potter, a great-uncle by marriage walk up to Charis and yank the pipe out of her mouth and throw it to the ground, calling her something that sounded distinctly like, "Foul hag."

Everyone in the room knew immediately that this was a grave mistake; the old woman had quite the temper, and was better and spell work than anyone could have guessed by looking at her. They were all sure that, in a few minutes time, Charlus would likely be trying to remove several extra noses while keeping his toes from biting each other.

However, seconds before Charis pulled out her wand, Walburga could be seen entering the hall from the kitchen through the clearing smoke, and ringing a small bell.

"Attention," she said in a stern, clear voice, "Your attention, please. Kreacher, our house-elf," she waved toward her knees, where the ugly elf was giving a half-smile, "has just alerted me that dinner is complete. If you could all just follow me into the dining room."

Immediately, every one turned, as one, toward the door leading into the dining room and filed through it, Sirius at the back of the line, knowing that, no matter how foul his family was, occasions like these always promised a great meal, for, though Kreacher was quite ugly, and in Sirius' (and, if truth be told, nearly everyone else's) opinion, was not good for much of anything, there could be no denying that he made a great meal.

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